Never Leave Me Again
by HerMadnessMac
Summary: After months of searching, they've finally reached their destination-the Roman camp. Will the two sides join in battle, or will they rip each other apart at first sight? And the ultimate question...will Percy remember Annabeth before it's too late?
1. Home

**Hey guys. I wrote this story for a contest on Deviantart, I never imagined I would like how it turned out so much. Just so you know, I wrote the first chapter before SoN came out. Now that it has, obviously, I know things are a little different- like Percy's invulnerability is gone. But just go with it, kay? Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and all other characters. I just hang with the fates and screw with their lives on here.**

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><p>"Land ahoy!" called Leo from his place at the head of the boat.<p>

Annabeth looked up and stopped playing with her beaded necklace. Her Empire State Building bead in particular. It had become a bad habit these last few months, and a person can only sharpen a dagger so many times. Carefully, Annabeth scanned the horizon. Nothing. She frowned, first at the horizon, then at Leo. Apparently, the Hephaestus kid felt her glare. He turned.

"Dead ahead, 12 'o clock, I promise, " Leo explained, pointing to where he estimated the Roman camp to be, "I think the mist's obscuring it, but it's there."

Annabeth gave a short nod in response and looked again, trying to see past any magical concealment. Still, nothin—there. She saw it. In the midst of the water, less than a mile ahead, stood two tall columns. They were here. After months of false information and traveling, they were here. They had found it. They had found Percy.

Annabeth budged Clarisse with her elbow and gave a jerk of her head towards the camp. Clarisse squinted for a second then nodded.

"I see them," she said, "four tall, white columns straight ahead."

Four? Annabeth checked again, and counted.

"Six, from what I can see," she replied, guarding her eyes from the sun with her hand, "There's probably more...oh! They've surrounded the camp with them. They're look-out towers. See how far apart they are?"

Clarisse grunted in reply and flexed uneasily, glancing at the sails, "I hope those are enough."

Annabeth followed her gaze. Despite the cries for the sails to be painted in various colors and with an enormous amount of decoration, Annabeth had put her foot down. The sails would be white. White sails meant peace. It was bad enough they were sailing into enemy territory with a war-ship. Red sails meant war. Black sails meant death. Pink was just an abominable color altogether. Even Piper, now head of Aphrodite's cabin, agreed with her on that.

She just had to hope the sail color would be enough.

"Activity on land!" Jason called from his place in the Crow's Nest.

Annabeth whipped her head towards the Roman camp. The top of the front pillar had been lit with fire, and the surrounding pillars were following suit. Fire was a way of communication. That could only mean one thing...

"Signal fires!" yelled Piper, just as Annabeth had come to the same conclusion. The Native-American girl grabbed a rope and slid down it from the top of the Crow's Nest, "They think they're under attack!"

In seconds, the inhabitants of the boat, who had previously been lazing about, were active. Swords were brought out, helmets were put on, and the Hephaestus kids were readying the massive amounts of fire power that they had readied the ship with. Annabeth realized what the scene must look like from on land.

"No!" she cried, "No! Stop it! Drop your weapons! They'll really think that they're under attack! Knock it off right-"

Thud. An arrow sunk into the spot where Annabeth had been standing seconds before. Only years of training and her inherited battle instincts had saved her.

"Too late," she murmured disgustedly, securing her helmet as she ran, "Leo! Leo! I need a megaphone right now!"

"Uhh," Leo mumbled distractedly, fumbling around in his tool belt with one hand and trying to steer the ship with the other. Finally, Leo's hand stilled, and he looked at Annabeth, "Here you go."

Annabeth caught the tossed item and was turning around as she heard Leo exclaim, "Woah!" Then the boat lurched to the right, and Annabeth spotted what looked like a flaming tree splash into the water.

"You, you… you nature killers! I'll get you for this! This means war!"

Apparently Grover had seen the same thing.

"Grover! Shut up! This isn't the time!" she snapped as she raced past him to the head of the boat.

Seeing the megaphone in Annabeth's hand, Piper sprinted with her. _The girl is brilliant. Quick-witted and brilliant_, Annabeth thought, _I can't believe she's not Athena's daughter._

Reaching the front, Piper stood up on the edge of the boat and grabbed Festes' head for support.

"Here," Annabeth tossed Piper the megaphone and grabbed the edge of her waist-band, firmly anchoring her to the boat.

"We don't want to fight," Piper called, "We come in peace!"

Thud. Thud. Thud. Four arrows ricocheted off Festus' head. Annabeth yanked Piper down from the ledge, quick enough to save the girl from the arrow that was now zipping past their heads. Piper stared up at Annabeth with wide eyes from the floor of the boat where she had landed.

"Maybe, you should make yourself a little bit more of a target," Annabeth said sarcastically, offering the girl a hand.

Piper took her hand and stood, dusting herself off as she stood. "Yeah, a little less of a target and a lot more charm," she replied, a steely glint in her eyes. Piper grabbed the megaphone and tried again, layering her voice thickly with power, "We come in peace! We don't want to hurt you!"

Thud. Thud. Thud. Crash. There was another flying tree.

"You don't want to hurt us either!" she roared, "Stop it! Put down your weapons!"

Annabeth unstrapped her dagger and was about to lay it on the ground when she realized what she was doing. She reattached her dagger and shook herself off. It seems that's what the Roman campers were doing as well. She could see them reloading their arrows. _This isn't working_, she thought angrily, _new plan, new plan._

The boat lurched as Leo fought to avoid more large projectiles.

_Romans_, she thought, _what do I know about Romans?_

Crash! A large boulder nailed the side of the boat. Thanks to many calculations and preparations, the boulder didn't break through—just made a large dent.

_They were inspired by Greek architecture. They enhanced the sword work. They're violent and vicious._

"Hey!" Leo yelled angrily, "Lay off the projectiles!"

_Vicious..._

_**..."This means war!" Grover yelled...**_

_Warlike..._

"Hephaestus kids! Ready the weaponry! Archers! Take your mark and aim to injure! Avoid casualties!" Annabeth yelled over the sounds of thudding and Piper's screaming, "They respect power! Find the leader, and capture him! It's the only way they'll talk!"

"Yes!" Clarisse whooped with a fist pump, "That's the kind of plan I'm talking about!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. At least Clarisse was on her side. Immediately after Annabeth's orders, the Ares councilor was on the move. Canons were being loaded, warships were being prepared, and the archers were in their various locations throughout the boat. Annabeth grabbed the ladder to the Crow's Nest and started up. She needed to spot the leader. The problem was, she didn't even know what gender the leader was. Or what characteristics would mark the person as leader. Annabeth swung a leg over the wall of the Nest and looked for Jason. She needed intel.

Annabeth spotted him above, channeling lightning through his lance.

"Jason!" she called, "We need to know what the leader would look like. What characteristics would the leader have? Who would have replaced you?

Jason paused, and looked troubled. It was a good thing he was so high in the air, or he would have been shot down immediately. She knew it was hard for him to remember things from his past, but they needed to know and they needed to know now.

"She's an archer," he said with a frown, pulling Annabeth out of her guilty state. "She has brown hair, and would have a tower shield with a sun design. Reyna's bossy, so she'd be yelling orders."

Annabeth nodded, calculating the odds, "Jason, you need to find her."

The boy looked startled and Annabeth pressed on before he could interrupt, "She knows you. They all know you. If we can get you to land, to her, the fighting is likely to stop. They'll listen to you." Jason's face resembled a white sheet, but he nodded, understanding. Annabeth dug in her pocket for two flares and tossed them to Jason, "Here. The green flare says you found her and everything's fine. Red flare is a distress signal. We'll come get you."

Jason saluted her and took off towards the archer towers. The spiraling vortex of wind around him repelled all the arrows sent his way. Sure enough, the arrows seemed to be slowing down. Hopefully, some of the campers remembered the flying boy.

CRASH! The boat lurched sideways, and the Crow's Nest tipped precariously. Unsteady, Annabeth reached for something to steady herself with. All the ropes were securing the sails to the mast below her-there was nothing to hold onto. Screams echoed below. The boat was practically at a 45 degree angle in the air. As Annabeth started to crouch, by staying low she ensured that the wall around her would keep her in the nest, the back of her calves hit the wall of the nest, and Annabeth fell over.

"Annabeth!" Clarisse called from below.

_Damn,_ Annabeth thought, grabbing for the sails. She just had to send the guy that could save her off into the battle field. Yet, in the long run, she knew that it had been the right choice. There was still a chance she could get out of it, even if she was doing flips and twirls she'd never thought about doing in mid-air.

A bit of cloth brushed across Annabeth's hand and she clutched at it. Her arm nearly ripped out of her socket, but her body's descent slowed. With her free hand, Annabeth unclipped her dagger and sunk it into the sail. She took a deep breath, Leo was going to kill her, and released her death grip on the sail, opting instead to hold the dagger with two hands.

Riiiiiiip. Annabeth sighed in relief as the pressure was let off her shoulder and she began her slow descent towards the deck of the ship which was almost level again. _Hah,_ she though smugly, _who needs the flying son of Zues when you have your wits and luck?_

"Incoming!" Leo yelled suddenly, jerking Annabeth out of her internal celebration.

It seemed like Leo had lost control of the boat, and had crashed into one of the watch towers. She watched in horror as campers desperately jumped off the doomed tower. Thankfully, or not, all of them landed on the boat.

Again, the boat lurched from its latest assault, and started spinning off to the right in a hurry. Somewhere in the madness, Annabeth's dagger had come out of the sail, and again Annabeth was falling—right out of the boat.

When she hit the sand Annabeth instinctively rolled to avoid snapping her legs. She hissed in pain as she rolled across what felt like a rock. Sharp and pointy, the thing had decided to rip right through her shirt and what felt like the better part of her back.

As Annabeth's roll came to a stop she stood up and looked around. No one. Everyone else was still aboard the ship, and here she was, alone. Armed with only, wait, where was her dagger? _Hm, Must have fallen out during the fall, _she thought, _Great. So, UNARMED and alone_

On enemy territory.

_Well, damn._

She was alone on enemy territory in the middle of the battle. At least, for the moment, she had gone unobserved. That didn't change the fact that Annabeth needed her dagger. As in, now. _The rock,_ she thought, _as she headed off towards the devilish thing. She had probably let go of her dagger when she hit the rock..._

With that settled, Annabeth headed off. Sure enough, there it was: partly sunken into the sand on the left side of the rock that was coated with a smear of blood. Annabeth winced and decided not to look at her back just yet.

Annabeth stooped and snatched her dagger out of the sand, never halting in her stride. She was on enemy territory. It would probably be in her best interest to find Reyna and end this battle, and Reyna would be in one of the towers (hopefully not the tower that had spilled its inhabitants onto Leo's boat). So, that's where she would go: the towers. It didn't really matter which one she picked, all the towers should be connected somehow; both underground tunnels and aboveground bridges were options.

As Annabeth stepped onto the grass, all of her battle senses kicked in. She was 20 feet away from the towers. Surely there were foot soldiers or other sentries about. She needed to be careful. A thought pushed itself into her mind, and, suddenly, Annabeth smacked her face_. Duh. The Yankees cap._

Annabeth dragged said cap from her back pocket and placed it securely on her head, loving the familiar sense of safety that washed over her. It was always a confidence booster when you knew no one could see you approaching. Especially with archer towers scattered about.

Ten feet away from the base of a tower, Annabeth spotted a bronze helmet topped with purple feathers. The strategist snuck closer for a better look. There was only the boy, and he looked to be around 13. She was about to eliminate him as a threat when she noticed him handling a mace with ease. The boy had been trained, and thus he needed to be taken out.

Annabeth glanced around to make sure the boy was truly alone and crept stealthily towards him. Just because he couldn't see didn't mean he couldn't hear her. She was a step away when the boy spun around, looking for the source of the noise. Annabeth lashed out, smacking him hard in the temple with the handle of her dagger. The boy's eyes rolled back into his head and he sank to the ground, but his mace continued to spin with the force of his turn. It grazed Annabeth's back before falling to the ground with its owner.

Annabeth hissed and placed her hand on the wall to steady herself. Tentatively, she wiped a hand across the small of her back, ignoring the sting as she did so. She pulled her hand away and examined it—it was covered in blood.

_Damn_, she thought for the third time in a short time.

Annabeth sighed, but quickly and effectively cut away the Roman boy's shirt. Half of it she used to wipe blood off her back, and the other half she used as a means to bind the boys' feet and hands together. She didn't hit him that hard. He would probably come to in ten minutes.

That done, Annabeth prepared to walk into the door of the tower that the boy was guarding. The hunt for Reyna was on. She hadn't seen Jason flitting about lately, so chances were that Reyna was not in the immediate towers, but if she went the opposite way of Jason, they could half the time of finding the Roman leader. Annabeth looked up as she walked. No Jason in sight. There really wasn't any way to tell which way he'd gone. She would have to pick a direction and hope Jason went the other way. Annabeth sighed.

Left. She would go left.

That decided Annabeth settled her cap securely on her head, and opened the door to the tower.

Inside of the tower was fairly dark, lit only by what looked like large platters that held fire every—she calculated— 30 steps or so. Quite a tall tower. Annabeth placed her hand on the wall of the tower and was greeted with a slimy substance on her fingers. Quietly she withdrew her hand, refusing to scream like some Daughter of Aphrodite, and examined it. Without a light source it was hard to determine the specimen now coating her fingers, but there were other senses she could use. Annabeth quickly sniffed her fingers.

_Mold_, she thought first, but with a second sniff, _No. Algae. Maybe green algae? But that means that this tower is often damp...it's far enough from the sea to keep dry, I doubt there's been a storm that could touch here if the Romans' protections are anything like ours..._

Annabeth touched the wall again, avoiding the algae patch this time. The stones of the wall were cold. Almost ice-cold, and slightly damp, like the outside of a frozen water jug. She nodded, confirming her last suspicion, _That leaves a water supply. Interesting. I wonder if they have an aqueduct running through the towers..._

With that information stored, maybe she could flood the towers and flush out Reyna, Annabeth wiped her hand on the side of her shorts and moved on. Tunnels would start on the ground level. She would look here first. Really, it was the only place to go. If there were bridges connecting the towers she would have seen them. There must be tunnels.

Five minutes later, Annabeth was still searching. She had been lucky enough to locate a stairwell leading underground, but so far, that's all it did. She'd searched the floor the staircase had led to, but all she found was what seemed like a weapons room. Annabeth had even tried moving all the weapons in case of finding a secret entrance, unlikely, but possible, to no avail.

It was time to move on. Thankfully, due to her previous searches, she had located yet another descending staircase. It was here that Annabeth paused, listening. There was a sound coming from below, like an engine running, or Mrs. O'Leary purring, or..

She smiled, pinpointing the sound.

_Running water._

Annabeth paused and removed her cap to wipe a bleeding wound on her hairline she had received sometime previously. It was starting to drip into her eyes and impair her vision. Although her Yankees cap did wonders for making sure the enemy couldn't see her, it didn't do much good if she couldn't see them. Her vision in no immediate danger, Annabeth rearranged her hair so it stayed out of her cut and was about to put her cap back on and head down when she was surprised. A wave of water blasted her back up the last two steps, all the way up the first flight of descending stairs, and out the tower door.

Annabeth crouched on the grass hacking up water, and wracking her brain for a reason she was expelled so forcefully from the underground level of the tower. Busted pipe, defense mechanism...nothing checked out. Left with only one solution, she looked up at the tower entrance.

Percy.

There he stood, the boy she'd been searching for MONTHS and he just...stood there. Stood there glaring, at _her_, with a wave of water hovering ominously behind him to boot. Fine. If he wasn't going to come to her, she wouldn't go to him. Annabeth crossed her arms and gave him her patented glare.

"It only took you 3 months to show up, Perceus," she growled from her seat in the grass.

Percy looked confused for a second, and then did something that startled her. He let the water drop behind him and uncapped Riptide. Annabeth raised one eyebrow and looked at him daringly. He wasn't going to...she froze when her eyes met his sea-green ones. He wasn't kidding. This was for real. Percy was going to attack her.

Annabeth had just scrambled to her feet and launched herself sideways when Percy attacked. This time, however, she wasn't fast enough. Percy managed to nick her cheek. Still though, that was a much better price than whatever he had been aiming at beforehand.

Hurriedly, Annabeth drew her dagger in time to parry his next onslaught. She caught Riptide's blade on the flat of her own blade and supported the weight of the blow by holding her palm against the back of her blade. Annabeth put all her weight into holding off his weapon, but she was soon buckling under his strength. All that time he spent training had really paid off.

All that time she spent training with him. She felt her eyes start to water.

"Percy!" she exclaimed, absorbing his every feature and trying to make him look at her in return, "please! Percy, stop!"

Percy faltered and Annabeth took her chance to back up. She kept her dagger raised and fought to keep the tears out of her eyes. Percy didn't remember her. They had spent five years together, fighting monsters and saving the world, and he didn't remember a _bit _of it.

Percy stood where she had left him, dazed, Riptide's tip now pressed into the dirt. Annabeth watched him shake his head, physically removing the conflicts in his mind, and advance towards her again.

"How. Do. You. Know. My. Name?" he ground out, advancing a step further with every word.

"We met in Camp Halfblood. You're the Son of Poseidon, I'm the Daughter of Athena. Our first year, we got sent on a mission to retrieve the master bolt, you saved your mom!" she blurted out as quickly as possible.

Percy's glare increased and he continued forward with a side-swipe. Annabeth ducked and rolled behind him through his legs, swiping at his knee with her dagger as she went. He always did have too broad of a stance.

Annabeth used her momentum to help push herself up off her hands and spring onto her feet. She spun around to face Percy who was still in the process of turning around. Never one for missing a cue, Annabeth dropped down to a crouch and swept Percy's legs out from under him. As he landed, Percy's grip on Riptide loosened, and Annabeth quickly kicked it away. After being with Percy for years, she knew it would return to him eventually, but this would buy her some time.

Annabeth launched herself on top of Percy. She slammed her dagger into the ground by his shoulder, managing to cut his shirt, but not his skin (thanks to the whole dip-in-the-Styx thing), and trapped his arms behind his head. At any other time, this position would have made her blush madly and Percy definitely would have teased her. Now, Percy didn't even know who she _was_—much less tease her for straddling him.

"I know that Riptide will eventually return, "Annabeth began again, her face only inches from his, "I know that you must have showed up here around three months ago without a single clue why or who you were. I know what each of these beads mean because you get them at the end of every year at Camp Halfblood. With your friends. With me."

Percy had stopped struggling when Annabeth mentioned his arrival at the Roman camp. Now he stared at her curiously, not sure who she was, but not fighting any longer. In the distance, a green flare went off. Annabeth took time to register it, then looked down at Percy and kept talking.

"The first monster you ever fought was a Minotaur. You have a cyclops brother named Tyson, and a pet hellhound named Mrs. O'Leary. We both held up the sky, and that's why we have matching grey streaks in our hair." Annabeth took a chance and let go of his arms with one hand to brush his grey streak with her fingers.

When she stopped, she looked down at Percy who still looked troubled. Annabeth took a breath to start speaking again, but found her throat was so tight from holding back tears that she couldn't.

With a sigh that resembled a heartbroken sob, Annabeth removed her other hand from Percy's arms, resituated herself so that she was no longer straddling her boyfriend, and pulled her dagger from the dirt. She then proceeded to busy herself with placing it back in her holster, not making eye contact, mostly so he wouldn't see the tears that were threatening to escape from her eyes.

Somewhere in the process of Annabeth securing the buckle on her holster, Percy whispered something that made her stop in her tracks. Barely believing her ears, she looked up, and met Percy's eyes. He was looking at her, with an expression akin to one trying to fit the final puzzle piece back in place.

"What did you call me?" Annabeth whispered, terrified and hopeful to hear the answer at the same time.

"Wisegirl?" Percy said. This time louder.

Annabeth clapped her hands to her mouth and nodded tearfully. Almost immediately she was wrapped in the tightest bear hug she could have ever imagined.

Annabeth never resisted for a second, instead collapsing onto his chest and gripping his T-shirt as though she would never let go. The tears she had been struggling to hold back burst forth now, and cascaded down her cheeks. Annabeth was surprised to feel Percy's tears against her scalp, but she just sniffled and pressed even closer to her long-lost best friend.

"You were going to join the Hunters, and I was so glad when you didn't," Percy said suddenly. Annabeth started against his chest, and looked up at Percy. Tears were freely falling down his face, but he continued to talk, "You kissed me in the Labyrinth, but I was too surprised to kiss you back. We had to get Rachel's help and you were extremely jealous."

Annabeth punched him lightly in the chest and fake growled at him, with playfully narrowed eyes. Percy smiled and kissed her on the forehead before continuing, "You knew where my weak spot was, and you saved my life by taking the knife meant to kill me. Together we took on Kronos who was in Luke's body. You baked me a cake covered in blue frosting, and then we kissed. On my 16th birthday."

Annabeth smiled up at him, the tears that she couldn't seem to stop still rolling down her face. She wasn't worried though, Percy had yet to stop his tears either.

Percy brushed a hand through her hair gently, taking notice of the cut on her cheek and forehead. In a scene from every cliché romance novel, Percy pulled Annabeth's head up with a kind hand under her chin. She took the moment to look at the green eyes she had missed and found herself glancing and the lips she hadn't kissed.

"Annabeth Chase, I love you," he said before leaning down to kiss her sweetly.

When the kiss ended, Annabeth placed one last kiss on the tip of his nose before settling back in his arms.

"Love you too, Seaweed Brain."

Laying back against his chest, Annabeth felt his chest rumble with laughter and smiled. She took in his smell, how he always smelled: like the ocean. She took in how he felt against her: well muscled from all their training, warm and sweaty from their fight. She took in all the emotions she felt being in his arms again: secure, safe, and home.

Annabeth was home, and if she had anything to say about it, she was _never_ going to leave again.

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><p><strong>Yay, nay? Drop me a comment!<strong>

**They keep me aLiVe...**


	2. Prisoner?

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long! What, like, almost a year? Exactly? Wow. Super sorry, my muse ran away. Good news is: it's back and bit me in the butt. I have all sorts ideas for where this story could go, but this is a bit of a teaser to see if I've still got it.**

**Interested? Tell me what you think. Oh, and what are your feelings about eventually bumping this story up to mature?**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and all other characters. I just hang with the fates and screw with their lives on here.**

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><p>When Annabeth woke up, it was dark. That should have been her first hint, really. Annabeth woke up at six thirty am sharp each morning. By then the sun streamed in through her blue shutters that doubled as a chalk board (where else was she supposed to sketch late-night- architect-plans?). Yet, ignoring her clue, Annabeth stretched languidly and rolled to grab onto her owl pillow-pet. That's when three more warning signs slammed into her waking brain Clarisse style: hard.<p>

Her back hurt. Considerably.

Percy's pillow-pet gift was missing.

Her squishy twin bed had been replaced with a rock hard twin with scratchy sheets—even more uncomfortable than her bed on the Argo II.

Eyes shooting open, Annabeth scanned the dark room. _No foreign breathing, no window, the room is still, so I'm decidedly not on the Argo II…_ Experimentally, Annabeth ran her hand over her waist and simultaneously shifted on the bed. _Hm_, she thought , a crease beginning to form between her eyebrows even as her eyes remained shut, _I'm still in my shorts, my knife band is missing, I have a bandage on my back, and as far as I can tell there's no motion senstitive triggers on the bed, I smell like Percy, all nice and ocean breezey. Kinda tropical_…

The thought alone sent a jolt through her unlike any adrenaline rush she'd ever endured.

_Percy! I found him! He remembered me!_ She near screamed in her head. Her blood felt like Amp, or maybe Monster, coursing through her veins and it was all she could do not to bolt to find him. Because although she had found him, and he had most definitely remembered her—even in the dark Annabeth knew she was blushing at the thought of the kiss—she was alone. Again.

Was he in danger? _Probably._ Were they in prison? _Maybe._ Was it a dream?

…

_No._

Then why wasn't he with her?

It was hard not to let her thoughts stray to those of self-doubt. _Don't be ridiculous_, she spat at the evil, whispering part of her mind, _Of course he was glad to see you! He hasn't replaced you!_

_Not intentionally_, it whispered, _but remember, Percy had forgotten you until you fought. He might have had a girlfriend here, not realizing he was taken. It's not like he was cheating intentionally, but now, he must choose. And be honest, you were only together for two months. He could have been with this girl for eight months. He might choose her over you._

Annabeth shook her head, ridding herself of a useless train of thought. She was a child of Athena! Not some moonstruck daughter of Aphrodite who cared only for men and love! Here she was in enemy territory, without her negotiator, possibly a prisoner, and Annabeth was wasting time pitying herself because Percy might have a Roman girlfriend. Her mother would be having a fit!—if she could even see her now that the Gods had closed themselves off.

Reminding herself she had to get out of here, Roman girlfriend or no, Annabeth rose to a crouching position. She made sure to keep her feet on the bed and her head low as she surveyed her surroundings further.

As her eyes finally adjusted, Annabeth located her hat and knife placed neatly on what looked like a bedside table right next to an old orange rag and a glass of water. _Okay, I'm probably not in prison,_ the thought was confirmed by the absence of trip wire on the floor or above her.

It was at that moment there was a shift in the tiny amount of light streaming under the door. _A guard. Possibly two._ She may not be a prisoner, but Annabeth was certainly being watched. The idea irked her for some reason.

As she buckled on her knife and slipped her hat comfortably into her back pocket, Annabeth realized another significant problem.

She was naked.

Okay, not naked, naked. The white cloth bandages she assumed were for her back wrapped around and covered everything important, but she still felt extremely exposed. It's hard to galavant around enemy territory like you owned the placed if you were half naked.

_Well, maybe not if I was Aphrodite's daughter,_ she thought, still bitter at her earlier weak thoughts before she winced and apologized to both Aphrodite and Piper. Piper was actually an OK girl, and the last thing she needed was for Aphrodite to intentionally screw up her already difficult love life.

Picking up the remnants of her shirt, what she had deemed an old rag, Annabeth sighed. There was no way to salvage it. Of course she could put it on, but it wouldn't do much, and was caked in blood in addition. The back was split to nearly the collar, and the front was torn off to right beneath her bra. Speaking of…

…no where in sight. Annabeth was officially in enemy territory without a shirt OR bra.

"Think she's awake?"

The voice of an adolescent male broke Annabeth from her silent lament. He was older. Fifteen, sixteen? Only the barest hint of a crack remained in his voice.

"Nah," a female replied, "It's pretty quiet in there."

"Damn," he cursed, "I don't think the meeting's going very well without her. I had the feeling she was their leader or something."

The meeting!

"Jason's their leader," the girl reprimanded, "and besides. That girl with the red bandana seemed like she knew what was going on."

Clarisse was speaking on their behalf? Of all the… They'd be at war in a matter of minutes. Quick as she could move, Annabeth shrugged what was left of her shirt over her head, spitting out the flakes of blood that got it her mouth as she did.

"No, Jason's _our_ leader. And Percy's theirs. I mean he's ours too, and Jason was our leader first, but…Gods this is confusing," the male mumbled.

Annabeth was already at the door and had it swung open before the girl could respond.

"Take me to the meeting."

Both guards stared at her blankly. The male was Asian, a little shorter than Percy but taller than her with a stockier build. He had a firm grip on his weapon, a spear—experienced—but held it uncertainly at his side; he'd only recently come into his confidence as a warrior. The girl was shorter and petite, African American. She held her cavalry sword firmly in her grasp though her eyes were wide in fear.

The girl was the first to regain her composure.

"Are you sure?" she asked, noting the way in which Annabeth unsteadily gripped the door frame, "They'll be fine without you, and it's a bit of a walk…"

"She'll be fine Hazel," the boy interrupted, "it's not that far." Cutting off Hazel's angry glare, he gestured to Annabeth. "Besides, look at her! If we don't escort her I have the feeling she'd try and go by herself."

Hazel harrumphed and crossed her arms angrily, but after a second turned and gestured for Annabeth to follow all the same.

"It's this way," she said, turning to her right, "but we'll have to hurry. It started twenty minutes ago."

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><p><strong>So there it is. The next chapter. I guess I could have written the meeting, and really you deserve it, but...nah. :P I'm feeling evil. Drop me a review and tell me how much you hate me if you must. Your words make me all the more anxious to update again.<strong>

**Until next time!**

**-HerMadness**


	3. Fine Then

**Okay guys! Here's the next chapter. Thanks to the magnificent ExtremeFanBoy for taking the time to beta this for me :)**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and all other characters. I just hang with the fates and screw with their lives on here.**

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><p>As it turned out, Hazel was right. It <em>was<em> a long walk. Yet, the Asian boy, who Annabeth had learned was named Frank and had just celebrated his 16th birthday (_Ha, pretty good guess from only his voice_)_,_ was right too: she _did_ need to be there.

They were thirty feet away from the door when Annabeth heard the raised voices.

"Why are you here, again?" a cold, imperial voice asked, barely containing malice.

"I told you, _Princess_," Clarisse growled, "We came for the dor—we came for Percy. He's Greek, one of the Big Three's children, one of our leaders, and you can't have him."

Annabeth sincerely hoped she hadn't stuck her tongue out.

"And, well, we have to work together to save the world from destruction, or something," Clarisse said. Annabeth sighed; at least Clarisse was trying to be diplomatic. Well, as diplomatic as a daughter of the war god could be.

"Which brings me to one of my last questions: why should we trust _Graecus_," she spat the title like a curse, "enough to let them stay in out camp?"

At this point Annabeth had reached the door, and she swung it open as hard as she could. Romans respected power, and still shaky from her long walk and blood loss, Annabeth didn't feel too powerful. Hopefully her entrance made her seem a little more intimidating.

Everyone in the room gathered around a round table. Clarisse, Jason, Piper, and Leo sat on one side, and several people who Annabeth assumed represented the Romans sat on the other. Yet, Annabeth's entrance seemed to have frozen the whole room in place.

Clarisse stood in front of her chair, mouth open in a snarl and finger pointed accusingly across the table; Jason, sitting on her right, had his arms crossed defiantly, but his eyes showed confusion; Piper sat next to him as close as she could possibly get to the boy without actually touching him with hands primly in her lap and expression troubled; Leo, on Clarisse's right, had his feet propped up on the table and wicked smile on his face.

Across the table a brunette-beauty paused with both her hands on the table, paused halfway through standing up, glaring daggers at Clarisse. She wore a white toga with gold armor decorating the top. The shoulder armor was short enough to display her arms, and they rippled with muscles and the tension of the room. Obviously, this girl was a warrior on top of her position as a leader.

_Why should that surprise me? She's Roman__._

Next to her, right next to her, was Percy.

_Oh, Percy_, Annabeth breathed, fighting to keep her composure.

As always, his hair seemed to be windswept, like he'd been surfing all day, despite the lack of the smallest breeze. She used to tease him about it, but now she liked to ruffle it herself. In stark contrast to his dark hair were his sea-foam eyes. Gods, they were striking.

Catching her gaze, Percy raised an eyebrow teasingly with his trademark crooked grin firmly in place. He didn't need to speak for her to hear the message: _You checking me out, Wisegirl? _

_Yes, _she answered with a quirk of her own lips. And so, knowing Percy was watching, Annabeth allowed herself a couple seconds to drag her gaze down his body.

He, too, wore a white toga, but the top was not embossed with gold armor. Instead, the toga looped over one shoulder was secured to the rest of his outfit by a large gold oval. Although far from his usual choice of clothing, Annabeth wasn't going to complain. This new wardrobe gave her a perfect view of his toned biceps and triceps and deltoids, oh!—and his pectorals. Actually, if she looked closely enough she could even see a little chest hair….

She felt the blood rise to her cheeks, _No! Don't give in, Annabeth. Remain in control!_

Annabeth forced herself to look away from his chest and continue down the rest of his body as though she hadn't almost been reduced to a drooling mess by Percy's godly physique. It wasn't that big of a sacrifice, really. The gladiator sandals framed his calves nicely….wait.

…

Were his legs _touching _Reyna's!

Eyes widened in surprise, Annabeth looked at Percy as an entirety instead of admiring him in parts. Then, all at once, her eyes hardened.

Instead of sitting companionably next to his new Roman counterpart, Percy's positioning mirrored Piper's. His armrest was touching hers—how had she not noticed that before?—and with his legs stretched out they were brushing up Reyna's. Actually, they were a bit farther away now.

_Has he been slowly pulling away this whole time?_ She wondered, outraged, _He must have issued that "challenge" just so I wouldn't notice him disentangling himself! But he still had the nerve to kiss me? Even though he had another girl!_

Memory loss wasn't an excuse anymore. Percy may have forgotten her when he met Reyna, but there was no way he'd "forgotten" about Reyna when he kissed her. With a final glare at Percy, she had more important things to worry about than her bastard of a boyfriend, Annabeth let the door shut firmly behind her before walking powerfully to where Clarisse still stood.

"Go ahead and guard the other campers," she said, laying a hand on Clarisse's shoulder, "I'll take it from here."

Clarisse grunted affirmative, gave her a mock salute, sent one last glare at the Roman bitch, it didn't matter Annabeth hadn't had time to judge her yet, she _had_ to hate her now—on principle, and quickly and stiffly like only a Child of Ares can seem to do.

"I apologize for not being here on time as well as for the actions of my companion," Annabeth spoke as she lowered herself into her chair. She tried to make it look like she was doing it slowly and gracefully, but really she was just trying not to aggravate her wounds further. "She's a fine leader, but as a child of Ares, there's only so small her diplomatic skills go."

Her smile was cold and painfully polite to match her tone. Whether she liked the Romans or not, they needed to work together; otherwise, the world would fall—to storm or to fire. If and when they accomplished this feat, Annabeth would allow herself to beat the bitch and bastard sitting across from her.

Her smile became a little less fake at the thought.

Closing her partly open mouth, the Roman bitch sat back down as gracefully and comfortably as a cat settling down to bath in the sun. It was as if she'd never been angry at Clarisse at all.

"Indeed? Even as the daughter of Bellona, Roman Goddess of battle, I can act gracefully during meetings. Perhaps Romans were just better blessed in that respect," Reyna answered calmly but slowly, letting her insult sink in before continuing, "Anyway, allow me to introduce myself. I am Reyna, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata-the only surviving Roman legion."

She paused, and Annabeth knew she wanted to allow her titles to have time to sink in and perhaps intimidate her. Deciding that enough time had passed, Reyna pressed on.

"And who might you be again, injured warrior?"

_Injured warrior?_ Annabeth was seething inside. Reyna was hitting all her weak points: her pride as a Greek, her pride as a leader, and, now, her pride as a fighter. She was itching to show her how a true daughter of Athena used her words and cutting wit.

About to open her mouth and do just that, murder shooting from her eyes, Annabeth saw Percy. He was sitting back, relaxed—still too close to Reyna!—with a smug expression on his face. He knew she was going to blow.

Annabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. She wasn't willing to make a fool of herself in front of him at the moment. Especially not when so much was at stake. If they were going to sink to the level of immature children, so be it. Annabeth had a world to try and save.

"I'm Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena, Counselor of Cabin Six, and Architect of Olympus," she replied with a demeaning smile, letting only the briefest amount of time for that sink in, "but that's not important."

Reyna looked startled by her titles. While Annabeth had been partially prepared for her introduction to Reyna by Jason, it seemed Percy hadn't mentioned her at all. She wanted to cry and yell at the same time.

Recovering quickly, Reyna politely arched an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Annabeth shook her head. She leaned slowly forward in her chair—always look in control, even in enemy territory—placed her elbows on her armrests, and clasped her hands in front of her mouth. Annabeth had been fourteen when she first saw her mother assume this position. The Gods had quickly paid attention when she did, and now, four years later, Annabeth knew why.

This pose did two things:

1. It imposed the seriousness of the situation. Annabeth made sure every inch of her body radiated a little tension, enough to make those listening _nervous_ and added to the effect by frowning a little as if concerned.

2. It made sure the speaker was in control. In this pose, listeners soon became anxious. What was it? What was wrong? What were they going to do? By guaranteeing that people were hanging on her every word, Annabeth ensured that listeners were more receptive to the news she was about to drop. More receptive to her advice.

It seemed Reyna and the rest of the Roman counsel were no exception to this rule. Even Percy looked concerned, the ass. Annabeth let the tension grow a little more, and waited before Reyna opened her mouth to urge her on before she spoke.

"I believe you asked Clarisse why you should trust 'Graecus' enough to stay in the camp?"

Reyna nodded quickly. She didn't seem too concerned with power plays now, although she left as sarcastic smirk on her face anyway—just for show.

"Well, the truth is you need us," sensing the Roman upheaval Annabeth hurried on, "as much as we need you."

Silence.

"We are powerful enough on our own, little Greek," a scrawny, blonde-haired boy holding a stuffed animal said, "What makes you think we would ever need your help?"

_Little Greek? Is there no end for to the degrading insults?_ Annabeth wanted to scream. Yet, as she flicked her eyes to the boy, Annabeth heard Percy snort. _Hmm. So he doesn't like the blondie. Maybe I can put up with him a little bit-might be worth it._

"Well," she began dryly, "when we're up against an enemy even the gods can't defeat on their own, I think we should team up, don't you?"

The flirtatious smile and secretive wink she sent him were purely to irk Percy; however, combined with her sarcastic tone, it looked dangerous, and served to rile her listeners. Mutters broke out among the Romans. Annabeth could catch words like "who," "why," and "we're doomed" among them.

For once, only Reyna seemed calm, and Annabeth thought she understood.

As a Roman, Reyna was a warrior first, leader second. She could handle meetings, politics and diplomacy—it was part of the job description—but enemies, danger, and fights came much more naturally. It was and challenge, and Reyna was ready.

_Damn her_, Annabeth thought, _if she wasn't trying to steal Percy, I _might_ just like her._

Reyna met her calculating eyes, nodded once, and gave a blood-thirsty, teeth-baring smile.

"I see, Greek. That _is _more important," she said, and it was all Annabeth could do not to picture her cracking her knuckles, "So, tell me. Who are we up against?"

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><p><strong>Ta-da! How was that? Things are definitely starting to heat up. As I mentioned before, this story has plot on top of the Percabeth fluff. But are things going well? How do you like the ReynaAnnabeth rivalry? So they keep hating each other or form a grudging respect? Anyone you want me to include from SoN or TLH? **

**Drop me a review, it makes me update all the more quickly. **

**-****HerMadness**


	4. What Was THAT?

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and all other characters. I just hang with the fates and screw with their lives on here.**

As everyone swarmed out of the meeting room to assume their respective duties, Percy stood, unmoving and dazed, in the center. His arm still hung in the air where Annabeth had swatted it away before storming out.

_What in the hells just happened?_

At first he had thought the meeting was going to be a disaster. Regardless of Jason's and Percy's pleading to wait until Annabeth woke up from short slip into unconsciousness, Reyna was determined to get the meeting with over with. So, other than Jason—who still looked like he was having issues dealing with his onslaught of memories—there was only one person who could speak for Camp Halfblood: Clarisse.

_We are so doomed,_ Percy thought. His sentiments only grew as Reyna and Clarisse continued to shoot accusations at each other increasingly loud volumes.

He watched as Jason tried, and failed, to get a word in. He supposed Jason, like himself, was usually fine with taking charge and talking, but in the face of Reyna and Clarisse?

Forget it.

They were just a pair ill-suited for polite discussions; while Reyna could act civilized around other diplomats, she only felt challenged by Clarisse's presence. They were both daughters of war gods with an "alpha" female complex. Until they could get out in a field somewhere, spar, and draw some blood, neither girl was backing down.

So, Percy sunk further into his seat, waiting for the declaration of war.

Then, just as Percy had finished his list of a hundred ways he wished Gaea would destroy them all (right now!), the door slammed open, and everyone froze.

_Annabeth._

She looked like she had slaughtered an army to get here. Although Percy would bet that he was the only one who noticed that she braced her hand on the door for support and was panting slightly from exertion—_damn her stubbornness she should be resting_!—he doubted the rest of her appearance went unnoticed.

Her hair was a mess. Curly blonde hairs escaped from her ponytail and wildly framed her face. Her clothes were in tatters. He could see the bandages on her back poking out from under her ruined shirt that was covered in bloo—did that shirt cover anything? Too much skin was showing! Too much! Her body was beaten. There was a nasty bruise forming along her right arm and her cheek had butterfly stitches from where he had sliced her open with Riptide.

_I'm so sorry!_ Percy thought desperately. He would have to apologize later. But damn it all if every bit of her battered and worn appearance didn't make her look even more intimidating and powerful than normal.

Percy watched as she quickly surveyed the room; the occupants were still frozen in the spell she had unwittingly cast by entering. Cool. Cold. Calculating.

Then her eyes met his and the smallest trace of a blush dusted her cheeks. Loving. She still loved him and, by the Gods, she was _checking him out!_

He raised his eyebrow, letting her know she was caught and teasing her at the same time. She just smirked, the smallest little smirk, and continued her quick once over_._ Oh this was not the time, or the place, but he had missed her. He had missed all her little quirks, missed the way her eyes lost their steely edge around him, missed how she unconsciously stood with one hip cocked when she was thinking, missed the confidence he got from being under her hungry gaze, missed her cutting sarcasm, and, damnit, he had just missed _her_.

Percy had looked up from admiring her to try and catch her eyes to convey howfreakingmuch he had missed her when he froze. _What was wrong?_

Annabeth's eyes were devoid of the love they had held a second ago. Now, they swarmed with new emotions: disbelief, pain, fear, and anger. At him. She was angry with him. Really. Freaking. Angry.

_What had had done?_ Percy wondered as Annabeth satisfied herself with one last glare and stalked to Clarisse's frozen figure. He missed what she said, didn't notice Clarisse had left until the door closed again, and only tuned back in when he hear her cold, cold voice. Not at him, this time, but at Reyna. She was mad at both of them.

_Because they were Roman?_ Annabeth was the last person he picked to be prey to the Roman/Greek prejudice when there was a war on the horizon. She knew better than that. Acted better than that.

"And who might you be again, injured warrior?" Reyna's voice cut into his thoughts, and Percy had to smirk. She might have enjoyed bantering with Clarisse, but Reyna did _not_ know what she was getting herself into here. Verbal battles were just another form of battle, after all, a kind that combined her two talents: intelligence and fighting.

But, contrary to everything that was Annabeth, she just took a deep breath and introduced herself. Oh, sure, there was some title throwing, but she didn't make sarcastic remark. The only thing that seemed even a little bit like the Annabeth he loved was the small smile she allowed herself as Reyna sputtered over her rank; then she just moved on, "But that's not important."

_Not important?_

Percy felt like Reyna was mirroring his confusion when she answered, "Oh?"

What could be more important that a little show of dominance? Since when was a verbal spar not important? What in the _hells_ was going on? What was wrong with her? How much HAD she changed in the three months they were separated? Percy desperately tried to make eye contact to no avail. They needed to talk. He could tell.

Yet, Annabeth paid Percy's inquiring eyes no mind as she adopted her mother's "council pose." It seemed Annabeth was all business at the moment, and although her attitude was driving him up the proverbial wall, Percy couldn't help but be a little thankful that this debate was almost over. In a matter of moments, she would have the council eating out of the palm of her hand.

Then, they could commence planning to save the world. Everyone would join hands merrily, sing the campfire song, Iris would add rainbows to the air to commemorate the festivities, and…Annabeth could tell him what in the **hells** was wrong!

With some more discussion of the threats from the prophecy, and Annabeths's explantion of how their powers would be most effective combined, the council was soon throwing in suggestions. Percy only lent half an ear to what they were saying, but it was clear that most of their petty grudges had been thrown away. Sure, there would be some tense moments, and neither side FULLY trusted the other, but they were getting there.

As the meeting drew to an end, Annabeth made her way to Reyna and offered her hand.

The tension in the room was almost palpable, and it seemed everyone in the room was holding their breath—besides himself of course. He had taken a sharp intake of breath the moment she got close to him. It was so hard to focus on anything but him, war be damned.

The minute that Reyna grasped Annabeth's hand and even offered a small inclination of her head, however, all tension broke, and Percy knew that despite their problems, everything would work out between the Greeks and the Romans.

But when Annabeth smiled back at Reyna, a REAL smile, and didn't even glance at Percy, he just had to wonder.

Would everything work out between them?

**I know, I know, I've been gone forever, please forgive me! ****_*dodges flying projectiles of anger*_**

**I know it's taking a while, but I think I finally have a really solid plan for this story. Also, know this, although my updates take forever, I will NEVER abandon a story.**

**Also know that the angst between Reyna and Annabeth will be short lived. You commented and so it shall be! I also have fallen in love with Reyna as a character. Last thing, I know Annabeth's being a bitch right now, and is a tad OOC, but hang in there. It will all be explained later.**

**Since Son of Neptune and Mark of Athena have both come out, and House of Hades is blissfully close, I decided it would be ridiculous to try and rewrite the amazing adventures they've had. I've decided change how long the Romans and Greeks get along at camp before everything goes to hell. Then, hopefully, the end of this fic should be a nice set up for Mark of Athena.**

**As always, reviews are REALLY appreciated.**

**-HerMadness**


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